David Bowie's son Duncan Jones has directed an eccentric sci-fi which cleverly deconstructs the mythology of the Star Treks and Star Wars which have colonised the future of our imaginations with their glamour, self-importance and operatic sound tracks.

Sam Rockwell plays an astronaut about to finish his three year gig on a one man moon unit where he's been digging up Helium 3 for a big corporation. The realities of life on the moon with only a robot (voiced by Kevin Spacey) for company belie the clichés of outer space fantasies—the ultimate man's shed, Sam's sterile white capsule is devoid of distractions such as women, children, cooking, cleaning and other earthly pursuits, but it swiftly reveals itself as something more akin to a padded cell. Is Sam alone, the victim of a bizarre experiment in exploitation, or has he gone stark raving mad?

Made for $5-million using a couple of sets and some toy trucks, Sam Rockwell gives us a brilliant imagining of what really happened to Major Tom.